


Hairy situation

by BananaPeel2501



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Weird ik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 09:17:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18546823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BananaPeel2501/pseuds/BananaPeel2501
Summary: I couldn't think of a title so enjoy that.I know I'm not going to finish this or even edit it like I wanted to do because I hate it, I've given up because it reminds me of my old writing, so yeah... Yeet.Basically Gibson a witch and turns Tommy into a cat "accidentally" whilst there's this weird monster thing I think?





	Hairy situation

Philippe Hugo Guillet wasn't an early riser. 

He probably could be, if he didn't stay up into the night- scouring the internet for weird new spells that people shouldn't be posting. Most magic folk thought it was ‘frowned upon’, as they would say, to use anything other than the ‘wise’ books.

He was a witch, as was his mom. It was a secret, his parents told him never to tell anyone, not that he had anyone to tell. He had friends a few years ago but they all drifted into separate groups and Philippe decided it best to be on his own- more free time to study his craft.

He slumped out of bed and got ready, it was autumn so he wore a thick scarf on top of his jacket.

Philippe arrives at school on time every day, when he decides to show up. he walks through the halls with his head down, looking at his worn out vans. He had the money to afford a new pair but he liked the rustic look.

Nobody saw him as he walked straight past them all towards the library, he had about half an hour till school actually started anyway so he decided to kill his time there.

He opened the door and sat at a table, bringing out his earphones and pressing play to some classical beats. He opened his backpack and brought out his drawing pad, wrinkled and ripped, but it looked cool. He opened it to a fresh page and got to work.

Some witches have certain powers such as telepathy, element control and such. Philippe is one of the lucky few and has the power to tell the future through his drawings. Half the time he doesn't know what they mean, then there are the other times where he draws a Starbucks and decides to go there later.

He clicks his mechanical pencil and closes his eyes as he traces light lines around the page, opens his eyes and fills in the details.

The scene he draws out appears to be a forest with a body on the ground in the corner. He wondered what it meant but never gave it too much thought. 

“Morning Phil, what's this?”. Alex, more or less the leader of the trio of bullies that happen to torment Philippe. He takes the sketchpad away from him quickly, causing him to draw a straight line over the scene.

“Wow this is pretty good, kinda grim for my taste, aw wait is this what you were up to last night, sacrificing someone for your witchy needs”, he laughs.

Philippe gets up from his chair and takes the book from Alex's grasp, packing it into his backpack.

“I didn't sacrifice anyone”, he says as he walks towards the exit, nudging shoulders with someone on the way.

Philippe quickly apologised, noticing the glare coming from Tommy, the second in command of Alex's trio. 

Philippe had about five minutes till class so he just headed there.

He spent the day avoiding people and writing notes, pretty much the same routine as every other day, although the thought of his drawing lingered slightly at the back of his mind.

He walked home by himself, his house was in the middle of a forest with a long drive through the woods to get there, his dad usually picks him up but he had to work late that day.

The forest was dark due to the crowds of trees covering the pink sky. Silent except for the muffled sound of Philippe’s music and the occasional snapped twig and crow squawk.

The house looked like a candle in the darkness. Philippe let himself in and went upstairs to his room, it was about four o’clock so he opened his laptop and got started on some homework, which lasted him until about half six when he then decided to venture downstairs for his dinner.

“Oh hi, hun. Have fun at school?”, his mom asked.

“Mhm”, he didn't like talking about school that much. His parents never knew about Alex or about Philippe skipping school. They thought he was their straight-A kid. 

“Okay, dinner's almost ready… if you want to wait and you can take it upstairs”

“Sure”, another dry reply. The door then opened and in entered his dad, smelling a bit like cigarettes.

“Hi love, how was work?”. Philippe positioned himself on a stool next to the centre counter.

“Oh it was fine, nothing out of the ordinary”, he smiled a warm smile. Philippe’s dad was a rugged looking man. He worked in an office, often having to work late nights. He didn't look like an office worker though, he looked more like a lumberjack or some other kind of tough working job. 

“Dinner will be out in five”. Later she put out the plates and Philippe took his upstairs and into his room, closing the door with his foot.

Laying on his bed and letting his tv play in the background, he decided to browse his phone. As he ate his dinner he noticed a hashtag trending with his classmates online - #RIPGeorge.

George? George who? What happened?

He found the original article, published only moments ago about a boy, found in the woods, dead. He read that they found him with his skin carved with symbols. This was the third body that had shown up now with these symbols in their skin. 

It was well established that all of the body’s that had been found so far had been of the supernatural sort, which led people to believe that it was probably some hunter or something. This made the case less important to the police, as they tended not to care as much about their kind. 

George went to Philippe’s school but they never talked to each other, in another lifetime they could probably be good friends, but Philippe was too invested in his own time to have a friend.

It was about nine now so he decided to brush his teeth and go to bed, preparing for the weird ‘death - energy’ at school tomorrow.

 

Philippe arrived at school on time and prepared, his first class was history so that's where he headed, looking around this time as he noticed everyone acting normal almost as though a kid hadn't just been murdered. Philippe knew that if it had of been someone like Alex that got murdered, people would be quiet. 

He took his seat as well as some other people, the lesson would start in about five minutes so he just waited, bringing out a pencil and his notebook.

He noticed Peter (the last member of the trio) shoving Alex in his direction. Tommy sat next to Peter and watched silently as alex got close enough to Philippe to talk. 

“You know, that drawing you did…looks remarkably like the photo they released of george” he pulled his phone and showed him the picture that was now released, the cuts in his chest dark with with the now dryed blood. This must be what the picture was trying to tell him, maybe there is something going on here, “that's sick man, you knew this was going to happen…and you didn't even tell anyone, did you”

“I didn't know”

“but you managed to draw it before it happened”, he giggles lightly and walks back, the others smirking and asking what happened. Philippe keeps his eyes on is notepad, how could they not have some respect for George? A kid died and they joke about it, what's wrong with them. 

The teacher enters and everyone focuses their attention towards him. Mr Collins explains that the only talk in here should be about history and not about any outside events, however bad they may be.

“Okay, so I've figured, to make it easier for some of you, that I'll pair you up to make a project on your favourite point of history that will be worth thirty percent of your grade”, everybody mumbles.

“Okay, let's see, you're being paired randomly so I can judge you on teamwork as well, so, Alex with Chris, erm Peter with Lucy… Tommy goes with….Philippe”, he stopped listening to the names after that only noting that they had been given two weeks.

“Okay, go sit next to your partner. You can use this period to decide on your topic”

Tommy shuffled over next to Philippe and brought out his phone to browse. obviously not too interested in what he had to say.

“we should probably be doing this after school as well as during. Maybe use one of our houses?”, Philippe said. Tommy looked up at him and thought for a second.

“Would it not be easier to just study at the library?”. Yes, it would be. 

“Well yeah, but the library shuts at four, which doesn’t give us much time at all, so i’d suggest after school hours if you actually want to pass and get a good grade”. Well done Philippe, this may work after all. 

“We can't study at mines, it’ll have to be yours ”. Philippe nodded.

The day went surprisingly quick, Philippe either being too busy thinking about the significance of his drawing or the fact that Tommy was coming over and this could be his chance for revenge.

‘Never use magic for bad’

‘Never use magic on people’

The messages his parents always told him rang through his head. But this was for good, right? They deserved this.

The last bell rang and Philippe met Tommy waiting outside.

“You ready?”, Philippe asked him.  
He lightly snorted, “yeah, I've got my holy water ready”. He shook his head then started walking towards the direction of his house.

His dad had texted him earlier saying he was working late and couldn't pick him up.

The walk home was unsurprisingly quiet. The forest was the only noise and an occasional buzz from Tommy’s phone. He never questioned the length of the walk, just followed.

They arrived and Philippe asked Tommy to take his shoes off inside.

“Do you want a can?”

“Yeah sure, just don't poison it”, he shrugged. Philippe looked to the right, annoyed, then looked back. 

“Okay, you can head upstairs, it's just the first door on your right”. Tommy didn't say anything and walked up. Philippe walked into the kitchen and noted that his mom mustn't have finished work yet.

He pulled a small vial out of his bag, a sleep potion. He put it in there earlier that day so that he had it ready. 

He dumped the whole vial in the cup then proceeded to pour in the soda. He put the used vial in his pocket so his parents didn't find it. He was sure it was the right one because it was the right colour (he colour codes his potions) so he didn't bother to check the label. He didn't make a cup for himself as he wasn’t very thirsty, so he just took the glass upstairs

Tommy was sitting on his bed with his earphones in, taking them out when he saw Philippe.

“Didn't you get a drink?” 

“I wasn't thirsty”. He took the glass and casually took a sip, furrowed his brows then took another. It would've tasted a bit flat due to the potion.

Less than five minutes later Philippe noticed Tommy start to relax more, dropping his head then jumping awake again. Tommy lay down on the bed and closed his eyes whilst Philippe silently worked on their presentation. He could hear Tommy's breathing get heavier.

He snapped his fingers next to his ear.

Nothing. He was out for the count.

This gave Philippe the time to work the other spells for Alex and Peter.

He started with Alex, deciding that a fitting curse would be to feel overcome with sickness anytime he decided to make someone else feel bad or annoyed. That would probably keep him from bullying anyone for a while. 

He lit three candles and placed them on the floor at the foot of his bed, he closed his eyes and thought hard about what he wanted.

“sciat quid fecit  
Vir erat tellus  
Ego sum, et feci,  
ego scio eum et vicit”

He blew out the candles then relit them for the next target, Peter. He wasn't as bad as the other two, so Philippe went easy on him. He decided that anytime he hurt someone, his shoelaces would magically tie together thus causing him to trip. This one was just funny. 

He did the same setup, said the same chant and thought hard about what he wanted.

He looked over at the bed and saw the dark smudge of clothing still there. He probably had about ten minutes till he woke up. 

He wasn't sure about Tommy’s curse yet. He got up and went over to the chair next to his bed and sat down. Looking over at him he realised that there was only clothes, no Tommy. 

What?

He investigated closer and patted them down, finding an unconscious black cat sprawled inside them.

Oh no.

He brought the used vial out of his pocket and looked at it in a panic. It was the exact same colour as the sleep one, except it read ‘cat nap’.

He gave a nervous laugh.

Oh god. 

The cat stretched and yawned, it's sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light. Its tail flickered slightly. 

It must be waking up.

Its eyes twitched open and it almost looked disappointed at Philippe. 

“Tommy?”, he asked. The cat twisted it's head slightly, still slightly dazed from the potion. 

Philippe sat down next to Tommy and explained.

“I know you're probably not going to like this, and know that I didn't mean for this to happen but. I may have…. accidentally…. turnedyouintoacat”, the rushed last part went right over Tommy's head, he decided to get up, which was kinda funny. In his attempt to stand on hind legs he wobbled slightly and ended up falling off the bed with a loud thud.

His eyes were shut for a solid minute, causing Philippe to go into another panic thinking he might be dead, then his eyes opened wide, across from the mirror. 

Looking straight into his own reflection.

“Reeeaaooww!”, he let out a loud screech as his tail went bushy and his ears went flat against his head. Philippe jumped up and took a step backwards, he put his hands up to calm him.

“This wasn’t why I brought you here, I didn't mean for this to happen ok?”. Tommy tried walking toward him, unable to balance himself on four legs.

He stumbled about, wobbling on his black paws, only coming to a halt when he sees three lit candles.

“Reeaaoow!?”

“No! I didn't use that for you, I swear!”, he pleaded, but Tommy just attempted a ‘hiss’ and crept towards him.

“Everything alright sweetheart?”, his mom popped her head through the door.

“Yes.”

“Mraaoow”

“Aw, whos this?”

“no, no, I wouldn't-”. she walked over and picked up Tommy at the waist, ears still pinned back with an unmoving tail.

“Whos a good girl?”, she kissed the top of his head repeatedly, “you are, aren't you”. Tommy looked visibly annoyed.

“boy, actually”

“mrroww”

“Oh”, she gently put him on the bed, “so where’d you get him?”. Think, think, think! 

“I found him. On my way home. He was dirtier and didn't look well so I brought him home to take care of him, cleaned him up a bit”, a good lie, he thought, “he didn't have a collar when i found him”

“Oh, well if the owner doesn't collect him then he might make a good familiar?... Oh, hun”, she nodded towards the bed, to Tommy puking in it.

“No! No, bad...cat”

“What's this setup for?”, she asked pointing towards the three lit candles.

“Oh, uh i - I was just looking at different setup techniques. That's all”

“Well I'm going to bed, I start early in the morning so try to keep it down. If you get hungry then your dad’ll cook up something when he gets home. I think there's tuna in the fridge if you want to feed your friend”, she said as she closed the door. Tommy puked, even more, his shoulders jerking forward in the motion. Once he calmed down he collapsed on his side and closed his eyes. He looked over at Philippe, staring at him bitterly.

“It's not my fault, I didn't think this would happen. Just give me a minute, I'll fix this”

Tommy’s eyes were narrow and his ears were pointed back.

He was angry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sleep was sudden, Tommy thought. He didn't know why he wanted to fall asleep he just did. 

He had a weird dream as well, it was a forest and there was a man. All he could smell was metal, but like dead metal… rust? The man started chasing him but Tommy couldn't move. 

He was frozen. 

He woke up before the man caught him. He looked over at Philippe, ugh, he forgot he was here, but there was something odd, he was further away than he should be, more distant - out of reach.

He said something that Tommy couldn't here, still dazed from the quick nap. He decided to sit up but found that he couldn't, or at least he was but this wasn't right - he should be taller than this. 

He tried again and flailed about as he fell from the bed, a longer distance than it should have been for a human to fall from a low bed.

It felt like a few minutes when he finally opened his eyes again. 

He saw his reflection. No. It has to be a painting or something.

But why would there be a painting with philippe in the background?

Tommy was a cat.

He was going to kill Philippe. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“look just calm down alright, it's probably only temporary anyway”, he walked over to the bed, “just move off the bed, I need to take these sheets off”, Tommy didn't budge so Philippe picked him up and roughly put him on the ground, he hissed at Philippe and walked over to the door. 

Philippe grabbed Tommy's clothes and laid them over his chair, placing his phone next to them. He took the sheets from the bed and bundled them into a ball then placed them on the ground. 

He turned around, looking at his bookshelves, picking up the first book about animal spells, reading intently.

This was the routine for hours, different books, different reading positions, always the same feeling of guilt when Philippe realises that this isn't the right one.

“I'm not finding anything…”, he mumbled to himself, not even sure if Tommy was listening.

He looked over at the door where Tommy was sitting and noticed it was ajar and that Tommy was gone.

It wasn't like he had anywhere to go if he escaped, but just in case?

Philippe got up from his slumped position against the bed frame and walked downstairs. He heard more noises coming from the kitchen so that's where he headed until he heard a hiss come from the dimly lit living room behind them.

He walked over towards the sound, “Tommy? Tommy come out”, he whispered.

“philippe is that you?”, his dad walked through, “what are you whispering for?”

“Um, nothing- ow!”, he shouted as Tommy flexed his claws into his ankle.

“Does he belong to you?”, his dad said as he picked him up, a lot less carefully than his mom did.

“Erm, yeah”. His dad turned Tommy around to give him a good look. He turned him back to face him and stared at his eyes, noticing every fleck of colour in the almost human-like hazel orbs.

“mroww”

“Well, it's late. You need to go to bed” his dad told him as he handed Tommy over to the arms of Philippe.

Whilst trying to position tommy comfortably he said, “but it's Friday night?”

“And everyone else is asleep so keep quiet and go to bed. I'm going out to the pub”, he said as he walked away.

“Mraow”

“Keep that thing quiet as well!”, he whispered. His dad left, closing the door quietly behind him.

Philippe walked into the kitchen and placed Tommy on the counter.

“ are you hungry?”. Tommy stayed quiet. philippe opened the fridge and looked for anything even remotely good.

“How about… tuna?”. He brought it out and opened it into a small bowl, mashing it up with a fork until it was a bit less chunky and placed it in front of Tommy.

Tommy sniffed it cautiously but didn't bother eating it. It could be poisoned as well, he thought.

Annoyed, Philippe put the bowl in the sink and went upstairs, asking Tommy to follow him.

In his room philippe opened his laptop and sat on his bed, looking into more ways to reverse this weird situation.

“Tommy…”, he started, “I think I have an idea, but I don't know if you're going to like it”. Tommy nodded, as in telling him to continue.

“Well, you know what my mom said earlier? About making you my familiar? Well, that just may work...it may be our only hope to turning you back”. Tommy nodded his head enthusiastically.

“No, you don't understand. There's more to this than just being human again. You’re bonded with me. We’re linked in the soul. Look, a familiar is a witch’s servant. They’re controlled by their master. When their master dies so do they”. 

Tommy insisted, Philippe knew he was going to regret this. But then again, anything to be human, right?

“Okay, well, if you're entirely positive”. Philippe brought his laptop over to the ground in front of his three candles which were still lit from when he did peter’s curse. he sat down and patted the space next to him, which Tommy then took up as he sat there and watched.

He brought the laptop onto his knees and read what he had to do.

“Well, it says here we both need to put something of our own into the centre of the altar, something that we use everyday, like jewellery or something. Do you have anything?”. Tommy thought for a second then jumped up from the spot and moved over to his pile of clothes, biting an old necklace from the pocket of his black hoodie. He managed to pull it over to Philippe then sat back down.

“Dog Tags?”

“Mraow”

Philippe put them in the centre and decided it would be fitting to find his grandpa's old dog tags from the war.

He found them under a heavy pile of notepads and books then placed them in the centre.

Once he sat back down he said, “ they were my grandpa’s in the war”. Tommy looked at him then at the laptop.

“Okay so now I have to say this chant and we should be good”. Tommy looked worried, well he would if he were human but as a cat, he just seemed interested.

“O di superi voco super te,  
Benedicat mihi nota id cat tenetur ad me”

Once, Twice then Three times and they were done.

“I'm not too sure what to do now”, he said as he blew out the candles, “I guess we find out in the morning?”

“mraow?”

“There's nothing else we can do now, we just have to wait,” he said as he grabbed a blanket from the cupboard and placed it on top of himself, getting comy atop his bed.

“Obviously you can stay here tonight, if you want”, he told tommy.

He pulled the string on his light which surrounded his room in darkness, leaving only Tommy to wander about as he pleased.

He pulled the door open with his paw and hopped down the steps only stopping when Philippe’s dad entered the house through the front door.  
He turned around and jumped slightly at the sight of Tommy, obviously not used to seeing a cat in the house.

“ Christ! Stupid thing”, he whispered. Tommy could smell something in the air, almost familiar… like a metallic smell. 

Wait, it was Philippe’s dad that smelt of it. Nah, that can be right.

“What’s Philippe thinking? He can’t take care of a cat”, he grabbed tommy before he had any time to move and threw him outside, “go on, shoo!”. He gently shut the door behind him.

Not good, tommy thought.

He had nowhere to go, no one to help him.

Apart from Philippe. 

Bloody Philippe, who had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

When i'm human again I swear i'll-, tommy thought.

If i'm human again.

He decided it best to just stick around the area of the house, not straying too far.

He wandered into the garden which was relatively small compared to the house, but then again they pretty much have the whole forest. It was fenced on both sides, leaving the top of the garden open to the forest. There was a bench up against the wall of the house and some stone slabs covering the ground.

Speaking of the forest, he could hear small voices coming from the east side of the woods.

Maybe i'll have a quick look, he thought. He jumped over the fence and walked over, finding that it was getting quite easy to walk as a cat.  
He neared a small fire surrounded by four people.

Alex, peter and two girls from their english class.

Oh, god. Finally, he thought to himself. Running up behind alex he tried to say something, anything. But all that came out were the helpless cries of a cat.

“Aw, look at the little cat!”, one of the girls exclaimed, rather loudly. They all had beer bottles in their hands and there was a big pile of them over by the unoccupied side of the fire pit, as well as an unopened bottle of vodka next to one of the girls. She was probably hiding it from Alex. 

Alex scooted over and picked him up. Giving him a false sense of calm.

“Peter stand over there”, peter laughed then stood across from alex on the other side of the fire.

“Alex don't you dare!”, one of the girls shouted.

Wait, what's happening? Tommy thought.

“This is sick, peter don't encourage him!”, the other said. Peter just shrugged and readied himself for the catch.

With a swift movement alex threw him high over the fire and peter caught him awkwardly on the other side. He took a second to get a better grip then,

“Go low!”, he shouted as he threw him back, his right arm, or front paw, touching the hot fire long enough to give him a painful burn. Alex never caught him and he rolled on the floor once before hissing at him and attempting to run back to Philippe’s house.

In the distance he could hear the conversation still going, “Alex, were going home! Come on!”

Why would alex do that to him? Sure he didn't know it was actually tommy but still, the cat could’ve gotten hurt. Did get hurt.

They didn't even invite him there? He was having a serious talk with alex after this.

Tommy walked slower the closer he came, limping towards the side of the house where he thought Philipe’s room was.

His paw stung, radiating with a dull ache. It had obviously been burned, and he wondered if he would still feel it if he did turn human again.

There was no way tommy was going to be able to jump up to Philippe’s window, not with this pain. He decided to make a small bed below the kitchen window out of some autumn leaves, his fur making him untouchable from the cold october air.

Somehow he felt safer being closer to Philippe, it was probably that ‘bond’ he had talked about earlier, because they definitely weren’t friends. Tommy hated Philippe for this.

He dreamt of the forest that night, a different part of the forest than the last dream, it had a river, but the same man and the same smell. Only this time he could definitely see a body on the ground.

And he was definitely still frozen.

Philippe barely slept that night, tossing and turning as if something was keeping him awake. His arm hurt a lot as well, but it had been in an awkward position, under his pillow and leaning against the wall. He decided to just go on his phone for a while. 

He played some games and then checked online.

Another kid dead. 

How? How had the police not caught them yet. Maybe it was different killers? This was getting out of hand.

He checked what people were writing to see if it said anything about who died. There was nothing about them yet, just people posting about ex’s or tv shows. One post caught his eye, saying how some people can be so cruel to animals, like they’re not actually living things.

This made him wonder where tommy was.

“Tommy?”, he whispered into the darkness. He started feeling strange, like a very faint ache in his bones. But he disregarded it as being tired.

He pulled his light on and tore the blanket away from him, tip-toeing over to the door and opening it very carefully, trying not to wake anyone up. He made it to the kitchen, looking out for tommy the whole time. He poured himself a glass of water and drank it slowly, staring into the back-garden which now had a purple glaze over it from the morning sky.

He opened the window and listened to the silence. The birds were chirping and the leaves were rustling softly, due to the cold gusts of wind.

He heard a faint moaning sound coming from below the window.

What the hell was that? he thought, I swear to god if there’s another homeless person sleeping in our garden.

He opened the back-door to find a very naked, sleeping tommy.

“Oh my god”, he uttered, shocked.

“owgh”, he groaned. Philippe noted that he was awake. He quickly ran back inside to the couch, grabbing the decorative knitted throw and bringing it back out with him to cover tommy.

He placed it over him gently. He noticed tommy was cradling something and, upon closer inspection, found that it was his arm, red and almost sticky looking. 

Definitely a burn, he thought. A bad one as well.

He shook tommy’s shoulder gently, “tommy? Tommy” he whispered.

Tommy’s eyes fluttered open slowly. He furrowed his brows and let out a small whimper, trying to keep anything from touching his arm.

“I'll get the first aid kit, just hold on”. Tommy grunted as he managed to sit up better. The leaves underneath him were kind of uncomfortable, but that was the last thing on his mind right now.

Philippe came rushing back out with a small red box and his phone. 

“Okay i'm not sure what to do so i need to google it”, he said, furiously typing at his phone.

“Uh- here use this the now”, Philippe said, handing tommy the hose in his good arm, which he accidently pointed at his own face, and without warning turning the hose on which gave an ice cold blast of water straight into tommy’s eyes.

“Christ!”, he shouted, pointing it away from him. He gave a quick glare at Philippe as he lowered the pressure on the hose. Tommy gently let the water run onto his burn, hissing due to the pain.

“ right, let that run on it for fifteen minutes, then i'll put this bandage on top”

“Won’t that stick?” he asked, tired due to the pain.

“Well, yeah. But you can just rinse it under warm water and it should come off”, he replied. Tommy didn't acknowledge this answer just let his head rest against the wall and let the water run.

“This is all your fault”

“I know”

“I can't believe this”, he breathlessly utters.

“Yeah, it’s crazy”, gibson replies. 

About seven-ish minutes had passed and the silence was getting boring, tommy didn't mind it. He barely even wanted to speak to gibson.

“What happened?”, he asked him, obviously referring to his burn.

“Nothing”, he muttered. Gibson pondered for a moment then looked at his phone again. Noting that they’d finally released an article about the new missing kid. They were found not far from his house actually, near the far corner of the forest. Again, they were found with weird carvings all over their body.

The article said that they were a fairy, something that was quite rare around this part of the world. Philippe had never met a fairy.

“Another kids dead- a fairy”. It took a minute for tommy to reply.

“Better watch out, you might be next”, he opened one eye to look at gibson then closed it and went back to resting his head against the wall, “ whereabouts they find it?”

“Not that far from here actually, near the north part of the forest. Next to the stream at the top”

“The stream?”, that was in his dream. He saw the body in his dream and he saw the murderer. This was weird, way too weird.

He shook his head quickly, “i have to leave. This is just all too much”, he said, suddenly trying to get up.

“You can’t leave this now. I told you what you’d be getting into and you...insisted that it happen. We have to stay together through this thing. Let me guess- you’ve been getting premonitions about this. Seeing the murderer or the body’s or something!”, tommy nodded his head slowly, “were bonded now. You can't escape that. I'm sorry but it’s true. Otherwise- you’d still be a cat, stuck like that actually”

“I- i just need a break. I need to go home”

“Well i need to bandage your arm”

“ I’ll do it. Go and grab my clothes will ya”, less of a question more of an order. Philippe shot up and ran away to get them.  
Tommy took the first aid box and rolled out some bandage, wrapping it around his wound carefully and sticking it in place. Philippe came back and handed him his clothes. He tried to get changed as discreetly as he could, Philippe waited inside to give him some privacy.

This is all insane, he thought to himself. 

He was a bit shocked about this entire scenario, being a cat, being somewhat linked with the weirdo that he had been pretty much bullying for most of his school life.

And now he was having dreams about the murders around town.

It was all just unbelievable.

He used his good arm to rub his eyes before heading into the kitchen to find a waiting gibson.

“So? Other than the burn, how are you feeling?”

“Sick. do you have anything for the pain?”

“yeah” , he walked over to a cabinet next to the sink and opened it, bringing out a big box of different medicine. He Picked a box from the top and popped out two pills from the packaging, handing them to tommy. He then got him a glass of water to wash them down.

“It’s just paracetamol”, tommy took the pills quickly, knowing they weren’t going to do much. He walked to the front door only to be met by the same metallic smell that he had dreamt about.

“Where are you go-”

“Do you smell that?”, tommy asked.

“What the cigarettes? Yeah it's my dad”

“No, the metal smell”

“... i don't smell that”. Tommy opened the door and was about to leave when the sounds Philippe’s dad’s heavy footsteps came thumping down the stairs.

“Philippe, who’s this?”

“Uh- just a friend from school, dad”. Tommy and Philippe’s dad stared at each other. He seemed to notice something about tommy.

It made him uncomfortable anyway.

“See you at school, mate”, he said awkwardly then shut the door behind him.

“What was he doing here?”, his dad asked.

“Uh, just some stuff he had to pick up for school”

“At 4 in the morning?”

Philippe nodded his head, “he’s really involved with his schoolwork”. His dad hesitated.

“Why are you up?”, Philippe asked him.

“Thirsty”. Philippe nodded.

“Well, i'm going back to bed. Goodnight”

“Good morning”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy’s walk home was eerie yet calming.

He wasn't sure how he was going to explain his burn to his parents so he'll probably just keep it hidden for as long as he can. 

His dreams weren’t making any sense, he didn't understand why he was getting them, or what to do with the information.

It was just a coincidence, he told himself. These dreams and the murders just happen to match up. A coincidence. Nothing more.

He reached a hand around his neck and realised his dog-tags were gone.

Damn. He needed to get them back. He always wore them because they belonged to his great-uncle. He passed away and they were the only thing that made tommy feel like he was still there. Helping him through life.

He wasn’t very close to his parents at all, not since his dad died in a car crash, tommy being in the seat next to him and barely making it out without a few scars. Tommy always felt that he should have been the one to die, instead of his dad. He knew this and so did his step-dad apparently. His mom hardly ever acknowledged him but his step-dad remembered him very well- when he was drunk. He always felt the only person who really made him feel like he had purpose was his great-uncle.

He turned back towards the house and kept walking, reaching into his pocket and being pleased to find a crumpled box of cigarettes. He reached into his other pocket and found his almost empty neon yellow lighter.

He put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, savouring the taste of the tobacco, and letting the smoke roll out of him.

He walked a bit further but then stopped when he realised he could smell that same metallic smell. He decided to follow it which led him through an overgrown path towards the forest. He managed to find himself at the same fire pit he got burned in last night. Only now it was charcoal, it was brightly lit and he was pretty sure someone was watching him.

It was almost like they were camouflaged between the trees but in the forest tommy could faintly see a large dark figured. It almost looked like hagrid from harry potter. Bur scarier.

A lot more scarier.

The thing was moving now, fast, towards tommy. It almost looked like it was levitating. Just floating along with a determined speed.

Tommy couldn't move. He scared frozen. This was just like his dream. The thing was getting closer and closer until-

“Tommy”. He almost jumped out of his own skin when he heard the familiar voice of Philippe’s dad, walking towards him with tommy’s dog-tags in his hand.

“You need to get out of here”, he said as he placed the dog-tags around tommy’s neck. Tommy was very confused. 

“Who- what was that?”, he asked him.

“Leave now. Watch out for yourself and stay away from philippe. You’re in danger”, tommy turned to leave before glancing back into the forest once more, finding that he couldn't see the monster.

“Weirdo”, he mumbled as he started into a sprint to get home, flicking his cigarette away into the mud.

Philippe didn't have anything to do so he brought out his sketchpad and decided to draw. He walked over to his bed and sat down, letting the pencil do the work as he shut his eyes and fell into a trance.

He opened them later and looked down at his work, not taking pencil off paper.

Okay, he thought. This must be a rock, some leaves. It's in the forest. What's this… a figure. Looks like a guy. What what's that? Looks like some kind of monster. It's big anyway.

He studied it some more.

Wait, there's another body here, maybe another kid? It doesn't look like there's any carvings, though.

He finished the drawing, noting the monster, the figure and the lifeless body. He ripped it out of his sketchpad and pinned it to his notice board where the other drawings were, then laid back down on his bed, rubbing his hands over his eyes.

He didn't know where to start with these drawings.

That monster. It must be in one of his books , somewhere?

He got up from his bed, checking his phone for the time, taking note that it was now half four. He walked over to his bookshelf, picking up a crimson leather-bound book his mom had gave him. It was pretty old and had loaded information about different types of creatures one can find out in the world, mainly hostile creatures.

He flipped through the pages, keeping his eye out for something that looked remotely like the thing from his drawing.

He wrote down three that looked familiar, or that could be it. He thought it could be a troll, due to the similar shape and size.  
Maybe a warlock, that would make more sense as to why it was killing these witches.  
Finally, he thought, it could just be a crazy person obsessed with sacrificing people for the greater good.

It has to be one of these, it has to be.

Ugh this was too much to think about. He decided to go for a walk to clear his head. Maybe a change of scenery would help him think.

He grabbed his coat and headed down the stairs.

“I'm going out!”, he shouted.

“Wait! Philippe wait!”. Philippe stopped and looked towards his dad.

“What?”, he asked him.

“It’s too dangerous, you know there’s a murderer out there. You're not leaving this house. You’re curfew is now at six, ok? You always have to be home by six!”

“And it's almost five, so i have an hour”, he said as left the house, closing the door behind him.

It was kind of strange that his dad was only now getting strict about his curfew. He never seemed to care as much before. Well, he cared, but he knew that Philippe could take care of himself.

He walked through the forest , kicking up dry leaves and watching them dance around in the wind.

He decided to walk towards the most recent site of the murder. See if he could find any clues.

The trees swayed as he stepped towards it. Birds chirping in the nearby trees.

He crossed the discarded tape which had previously been used to keep people away from the area. He used the torch on his phone to look for anything laying around that might help him figure it out.

Nothing- he couldn't find anything.

Wait- is that? 

Basil plants, growing among the roots of several oak trees . As a witch Philippe knew what this meant. Most people would use these in very harmful curses. Or even death potions. It basically meant hate.

It wasn't a good sign.

This could mean a warlock, considering they're using it to kill these people. It definitely ruled out troll. And unless the person had good knowledge of witchcraft- which they might, then it probably ruled out a human killer.

He had to tell someone. Tommy? No he thought he’d leave him out of this for a while. Let him adjust.

He ran back home so he could write down his new-found information.

 

Tommy wasn’t having a very good evening, he was making something for dinner, a cheese toastie, when his dad came stumbling in the back door, drunk out of his mind.

Tommy hoped to god he couldn’t see him. But he did.

“What d’you th’nk yore’ doin, eh?”. Tommy could feel his breathing getting faster.

“You th’nk you...can use our food, ‘nd live in our house. ‘nd not pay a single dime, eh?”, he slurred out. He walked closer to tommy, heavy footsteps thudding on the floor. He gripped the back of tommy’s head as he came close to his face.

“This ends now, either you pay up or you leave”. Tommy stuttered.

“But i -i haven’t got any money -i'll get some i swear!”

“You’ve been taking up too much space here! You leave! Now!”

“Please dad”, he begged. He knew this day would eventually come, his step-dad always asked him to pay rent, to get a job. But he never did. His mom never seemed to bothered with him living there just as long as he didn't bother her.

“Enough!”. He pushed tommy back into the living room, causing him to fall onto the couch.

Slap!

“Your a disgrace”

Punch!

“You’ve never done anything good here”

Slap!

“Get out!”. He grabbed tommy’s burned arm, which was nicely covered by the sleeve of his hoodie, and hoisted him up, taking him over to the front door. He pushed him outside so fast tommy tripped over the door frame and landed on his face.

“Don’t come back here”, he spat out. Tommy got up quickly and ran. He just ran in the first direction he thought of. He ended up in the forest.

He stopped for a minute to catch his breath, putting a hand to his nose to find warm blood seeping out of it. He then touched his cheek and pulled away quickly as it felt wet from blood and was definitely going to bruise. 

He rubbed his arm gently, it was stinging badly due to his step-dad’s rough grip.

He wiped his nose on his sleeve and kept walking further into the woods. He stopped when he realised he was at that same fire pit that alex had been at.

Maybe he could light a fire? It would keep him warm anyway. He proceeded to place some sticks into the fire along with some dry leaves and used his lighter to set it alight.

He sat there for a while, thinking about what had happened. He realised he didn't have anywhere to sleep so he’d probably just stay here for the night.

About ten minutes later he started hearing rustling leaves and heavy footsteps thudding towards him. He wasn’t sure where they were coming from so he frantically looked around. Trying to find anything in the dark woods.

“Tommy?”

“Fuck! -n hell”, he shouted, recognising the voice as philippe, “What?!”

“Uh, i just saw you sitting here. Thought i’d come over?”. Gibson knew tommy wanted to be left alone for a while, but he could tell he was upset, it their witch-familiar bond that let him know.

Tommy nodded to the empty space beside him, philippe quietly came and sat next to him. 

“what happened to your face?”, he asked. Tommy stared at the fire longer then looked over at philippe, hesitating for a moment before answering. 

“my step-dad likes to get drunk. He doesn't like me so much” 

“Oh… it looks pretty bad. I can get the first-aid kit if you want?”

“No. No just leave it”

“Well, here”. Philippe reached into his pocket, bringing out an old unused plaster. He unfolded it and placed it over the bloody cut, tommy winced when it touched his face.

Tommy got up, walking over to where one of the girls were sitting the other night. He smiled when he found the one litre unopened bottle of vodka still there. 

“here”, he said as he sat back down next to Philippe, vodka in hand. He unscrewed the lid and offered it to Philippe. 

“want some?”

“on its own? That's disgusting”. Tommy smirked as he brought the bottle to his lips. 

“suit yourself”. He threw his head back and took three long gulps of the vile liquid. Wincing when he stopped. 

“oh my god”. He cleared his throat and looked over at philippe. 

“I saw your dad this morning. He told me to stay away from. He said I was in danger”

“that's strange” 

“Yeah. I saw something in the woods before he was there though. It was creepy. It looked like...a big homeless man, but i couldn’t see their face”, he took another long sip from the bottle. Almost half of it gone, “maybe it was the murderer?”

“Considering these murders, i don't even think it was human.” 

“Hmm”

“I think you should put down the drink”

“Nah”

“You're gonna regret it in the morning”, Philippe reached for the bottle, tommy then putting it to his mouth and trying to down as much as he could. 

“Tommy stop”, he said. By this time there was about a quarter of the bottle left. Philippe hit the bottle out of Tommy's hand. 

“the fuck?”

“you can't just drink away your problems” 

“no, but I can at least get away from them for a while”. Philippe shook his head lightly. 

“do you need someplace to stay?” 

“I'll probably just sleep here, by the fire” 

“you can stay at mines if you want?”

“nah. Wouldn't want to burden you anymore” 

“Tommy, you're not a burden. Stay at mines tonight”. He looked over at Philippe then looked down at the fire again. 

“I'm not sharing a bed with you”. Philippe laughed quietly. 

“You can sleep on the couch, there's blankets in the cupboard”. Philippe stood up, he helped tommy get up as well as he was quite dizzy. Tommy held onto Philippe’s arm tightly, swaying as he walked sluggishly over the dirt. 

He stared into the forest as he walked home. It was probably the drink but he could have sworn he could see that thing again in the forest. Watching them. Watching him. 

“come on”. Philippe helped Tommy get through the door quietly. It was a couple of hours past philippe’s curfew so he didn't want anyone to hear him come in. He led Tommy up the stairs and into his room, leading him onto his couch under the window. 

“just lie here, I'll get a blanket”, he said as tommy lay down, gently resting his head on the couch. Even in his drunken state he didn't want to get any blood on it.

“could you get a bucket! I think I'm gonna be sick”. Philippe grabbed a blanket from the cupboard and took the bucket from beside his desk, bringing them both over to Tommy. He placed the blanket over Tommy and put the bucket on the floor beside his head.

“Thanks Philippe”, he slurred out, “you’re a good friend”

“And you’re not so bad your-”. he got cut off at the sudden action of tommy puking up the large amount of vodka that he had consumed into the bucket.

“I swear everytime you’re here , you’re sick”. He got into his bed and covered himself with his sheets.

“Goodnight tommy”. Tommy coughed up the rest of the puke then rested his head against the pillow silently falling into a deep slumber.

Philippe turned to face his door then closed his eyes and succumbed to the sleep. 

Tommy had another weird dream, this time more vivid. He was in the forest, running from the murderer. There was an intense pain in his shoulder and he knew he had either been stabbed or shot. It felt like he had been running for ages. He kept looking back finding that the murderer was just getting more closer each time. He kept running and running until he fell over a root landing with a heavy thud onto the dirt floor. The murder caught him by the ankle and dragged him towards itself. Tommy kicked and cried for help. But the murderer kept clawing at him, strangling him with one hand whilst the other clawed onto his chest, carving some sort of pattern. it pulled out it’s nail and, with the small amount of energy he had left, tommy saw the elongated claw attached to his finger. Tommy knew this was the end. He was running out of breath and as he took his last he heard a faint voice in the back of his head. 

“Tommy. Tommy wake up”. It took a few seconds but eventually he woke up with a loud gasp, his lungs felt like they had been clawed at from the inside. 

“Aah, oh god”, he held his head in his hand, catching his breath and trying to cover his eyes for his blinding headache. 

“you were making noises so I checked if you were alright, but you weren't breathing and I panicked and-” 

“it's alright philippe”, he took a few seconds to get his breath, “I think I know what your dad meant… when he said I was in trouble” 

“Why- what happened in your dream?” 

“I was being chased… by the murderer. He caught me and started clawing at me. But his fingers… they- they were sharp. He doesn't use a knife to cut the body's. He uses his own nails”. Philippe thought for a second, before saying.

“i think I know what it is”, philippe got up from his spot and grabbed a black leather book from his bookcase. He flicked through the pages until he found a page showing old drawings of a monstrous looking being. He came back over to Tommy and showed him the book. 

“this, this is it, right?”, he asked him. 

“Yeah, that looks just like it” 

“well it's called ‘an sealgair’. I think it's gaelic. It hunts ‘other-worldly’ creatures and sacrifices them for it's immortality”

“Creepy… what do we do now?”

“maybe we can stop it?” 

“Us? I don't think that's a very good idea, aren't there professionals or something that do this stuff?”

“Tommy, no one else is this close to finding out about the murderer. We have to do this. We have the knowledge and we know that he's after you now. If we stick together…eventually we'll find him”. Tommy rubbed his head with his hand. 

“fine”, he said, defeated, “ what do you suppose whe should?” 

“like I said… I think we can catch it. We know you're probably next, right, we can use that to our advantage. Set up a trap or something?”

“you're gonna use me as bait?!” 

“Technically you’re already bait. We just have to wait on the murderer”

 

“Ugh”, he looked over at philippe, “what else does it say about the… thing?”. Philippe sat on the couch next to tommy and put the book between them.

“It says here that an sealgair was once a powerful king. He asked a witch for immortality but it turned out that in order to be immortal he had to suck the life force from other ‘creatures’, so the witch granted him this power in exchange for a name in the royal family… yadda yadda, she took his throne and he vowed to kill any mythical being to survive… it says he walks around killing any non-human person he finds, hoping it will one day be that same witch”.. Tommy shivered as a sharp chill ran down his spine. He turned his head to look at philippe.

“It's quite cool that you’ve got all this stuff about these monsters”. Philippe looked at tommy, his calm, almost happy, exterior made the cuts and bruises vanish in his mind.

“If this were a few days ago, you’d be making fun of me for it”. Tommy frowned as Philippe stood up and walked over to his cupboard. He grabbed a fresh shirt and sweatpants.

“But this is now. You’re my friend now.” Philippe shook his head slightly and threw the fresh clothes over to tommy. He caught them in an awkward bunch and put them to the side.

“I'm happy to be your friend now. But i can’t forget those years.”

“Philippe… i’m sorry. I was an- an absolute…”

“Save it, tommy. Don't talk about yourself like you’re trash. I thank you for apologising but that doesn't wipe my memory”. He walked to the door, opening it ajar.

“Get changed. I'll go make sure my dad’s not here”. He walked down the stairs with silent footsteps. He entered the kitchen casually, walking over to the fridge and being relieved to find a cold can of coconut water. He then picked up a banana from his fruit bowl and walked back up the stairs, noting that neither of his parents were in. they were probably out grocery shopping- they usually do that on a sunday morning.

He knocked on the door, making sure tommy was fully dressed.

“It’s Philippe”, he said as he knocked.

“Come in, i'm decent”. He opened the door then closed it behind him, looking up to find a shirtless tommy sitting on the couch, eyes shut with his head leaning against his arm.

Philippe noticed the purple bruises that ran around his torso, adding a touch of colour to his somewhat pale upper half. He also noticed that Tommy still had his bandage over his burn. He should probably get a new one soon. 

Philippe thought, right here in this light, with the sun gracefully landing on him. He almost looked ethereal. Like some sort of wood nymph one would stumble upon in the forest, or a fairy, sitting among the old tree trunks. Glowing peacefully.

Tommy opened his eyes and looked up at Philippe, giving a small smile.

Philippe walked over to Tommy, “Here”, he handed tommy the coconut water and banana, “it helps with the hangover”. Tommy took the items and smiled at him again.

“Thanks Philippe”. Philippe walked over to the door, going to find something for his own breakfast. He stopped when he heard tommy speak again.

“I mean it Philippe. Thanks for everything”. Philippe turned and smiled at him.

“Eat your food then put a shirt on. We need to leave before my parents get home”. Then he walked downstairs for some food.

They both left the house at around twelve, walking to tommy’s to pack his bag.


End file.
